2014-03-16 - The Awakening: ...Before Erupting in Rage...
The message was left for Robin A.K.A. Tim Drake on his personal college E-Mail address. The E-Mail address from is generic and had already been deleted so it cannot be replied to. ---- Replacement, Follow the bread crumbs to the answer of your question; to where it began with Batman, with the crack of gunfire and the scent of smoke. It is only the beginning, and you will fear the ending. Red Hood At Crime Alley is where the next piece of the clue will be, a sketch of Ma's Diner. And it is going into the Diner and speaking to the waitress dubbed 'Ma' herself that she hands over the next piece of the mystery. "Be careful," she says, but she won't say anything more about who gave her the piece of the puzzle or anything. It is a sketch of Grant's Gym. When Robin arrives at the gym however it is closed down and Grant is not home. Performing some B&E though, will reveal Red Hood waiting inside the gym's boxing ring, leaning back against the ring's ropes with his arms crossed over his head. "You took forever," he states with annoyance, "Replacement." "That's what happens when you're forced to chase... what're we calling you, anyway? The Puzzler?" Robin takes his sweet time as he wanders into the room, but not exactly to the boxing ring just yet. There's no reason to jump into the mix of things. He's more interested in making sure that he gets this chump talking so he can find out some more things. He doesn't seem to be worried, either, in the way he walks. His hands are to his sides and he just keeps his masked eyes on the Red Hood the entire time he unleashes sarcastic commentary. "Y'know, this could get you into some serious legal trouble with The Riddler. Maybe we should find you a more fitting gimmick. Something with flowers, maybe?" Grin. "Red Hood," he states, bouncing off the ropes with ease as he moves further into the ring. He then spreads his arms wide, "The Riddler doesn't have to fear me, not for his gimmicks or his life. He really isn't worth my time in that avenue, there are greater threats in Gotham City than The Riddler," but his arms then fall down to his sides. "Come into the ring Replacement. It's time to see if you even worked to try and earn the title you wear." There there is a biting edging to his tone, "And I'd suggest willingness, cause I'd have to have to just shoot you and make my job easier," Red Hood states. "Actually, there was this whole big audition thing. Kinda' like American Idol, y'know? Brats and Bastards came from miles around. I kinda' just snuck in with a golden ticket. Willy Wonka style." Robin just lets the snarkism rain down upon the boxing ring, as he wanders around it for a bit more. He takes a quick step, before leaping up onto the apron and over the top rope. The moment he lands, a hand comes up to the 'R' on his chest. "If you want one of these so bad, I'm sure I could hook you up. What're you like a size 4 petite?" A snort, "You can't fill my shoes, and they sure aren't petites." And then Hood is moving as Robin comes into the ring, starting out with a simple lunge punch, before doing a foot sweep as his body lowers to the ground for the spin. "Didn't realize your mom meant so little to you. After all, she died a little before you became Robin, didn't she? Poor woman, who knew she had such a heartless son." Robin ignores whatever these words are that come forth from the Red Hood, focused more on the block and the backspin to get himself out of the way of punching and sweeping. He plants his back foot, pivoting to somersault over the ducking aggressor. No countering, just playing some serious defense because that's the name of this particular game today. "I was talking dress size but whatever, dude." Robin shrugs as he lands and immediately adopts a new defensive stance. Something French this time, if Hood is paying attention to his style selection. "This is all really melodramatic and I'm sure your therapist is loving that you're crying out for attention more, but seriously? Yo' Momma jokes? /That's/ what you're going with?" "Well, I could always take this up with your Father. Finish the job, leave you the sole survivor," Red Hood threatens. "You can be just like Bruce then, or are you more a Dick fan?" Red Hood doesn't stop moving, as he speaks he's on the attack, keeping it simple still as he tests Robin's moves, taking him through the basic defenses and more that Bruce would have trained him as Robin with. There are rapid punches, kicks to the side, and even Red Hood backflips at one point and tosses a throwing star at Robin to leave him to dodge or not. He isn't serious yet, but Robin can likely sense that is about to change. There's so many blocks that Robin is likely looking more like Lego Robin right now than anything. He's quick and he's defensive, almost reading the onslaught of Red Hood with each step or punch or kick. And he's right there to defend or block each one of those. Though, with each one, the smirk on his lips disappears a bit more as this grows from playful banter and weak sauce attempts to something more serious. Or least, he knows it is heading in that direction when the throwing star is hurled in his direction. Robin's thrown off by being in a ring and he chooses a backflip to dodge the throwing star, which puts him right next to the ropes. Not a good position to be in when the mind is immediately moving towards something more important. Something to protect. His father. "You're old news, man. Just move on." Less snark and more... leave us alone? Looks like Hoodie struck a nerve. Not to mention Robin's slight lack of awareness of where he is in the ring right now. And Red Hood takes advantage of it, "Don't ever lose sight of the mission," he warns as he moves in to throw a punch to try and get Robin's defenses off, so that he can crowd him. He has watched Grant work in the gym, having picked up some of his boxing moves, and he moves to enclose Robin to nail him with short jabs and restrict his movements. He is purposely using some of Grant's own moves, just as he purposely picked this location. "Lose sight of the mission, and you are a dead man! Or didn't you know that Replacement?" There is a tinge of anger in Red Hood's voice, as something Robin said also struct a nerve. Robin steps backwards to try and get defensive again, but he just finds himself bouncing against ropes. This makes him look behind him and that's half-glance is all it takes for the Red Hood to be on him. And those punches are coming with speed and force. Robin reaches out to block and attempt a counter-offense, but the Wildcat Specials that come in manage to rock him to the side and one even catches him in the jaw, which rattles his head a bit. "Maybe." is all he can muster up in the midst of the onslaught coming at him. Robin covers up, trying to protect his head. "... but /Robin/ will /never/ die." Looks like Timmy's not afraid to face his own fate. As long as the mantle continues to fly. "Bullshit!" And as some of his worse jabs and punches are blocked, Red Hood brings up a knee to try and knee Robin in the gut, hard, before he leaps back to catch his own breath, the sound a bit harsh from within the red metal mask. "When I'm Batman, there will be no more Robins, no more damn sacrifices." Wait, what?! Robin is doubled over, kneeling there in the ring and clutching his gut. He managed to move just a bit to make sure that there wouldn't be any internal damage and that he would still be able to speak. Even if his breath is a bit ragged now. He looks up, defiance clear from beyond the mask. "You're stupid. You don't even understand your own game." Robin pauses just a moment to spit out some blood. "Whatever you do. Whoever you destroy. Whatever you think? It's not going to matter. There is only /one/ Batman. And that's something that none of us could ever be." Robin gets back up to his feet now, still looking more worse for the wear than he should but he's standing. "Besides..." And smiling? "There was only one sacrifice." Oh, no he didn't. "No...there wasn't. Or does Babs being crippled not matter? Or the countless deaths that continue to go on? Does nothing else matter to you than a damn legacy carries on?" The words are bitten out. "How about I show you what that legacy means to me, and how I think about the one-and-only Batman?" Yep, thank you Robin for just making Red Hood lose it. And sadly, he doesn't lose it as in crazy is as crazy does and get sloppy. No, Robin isn't that lucky. He goes sadistic. And this time, when Red Hood cuts loose, he continues with unarmed combat. He attacks with not only his fists though, but elbows, knees, feet. He is mixing it up, with attacks from Ted Grant, Batman, Nightwing, Robin-eques attacks, and even battle attacks that Damian Wayne uses. His attacks are violent with strikes going to the face and head, kicks for the knees, elbows to the arms, knees to the kidney and stomach. As soon as Robin starts to figure one out to block efficiently, a new style is adopted. But it's obvious to a mind like Tim's...this man knows each and every member of the Bat Family, how they fight, their secret identities, and the costs of the legacy. He knows too much. There's a reason why Robin is not fighting back. Well, there's two reasons. The first one is that Red Hood is fast and the rate of the onslaught is making it difficult to mount a counter-offensive. Which is why he's making sure that he's only blocking the things that could severely injure him. He's tanking the rest of it... but not without feeling the pain. Or spitting out the blood. All of that comes in short order and creates the desired effect. The second reason, though, is probably why he's still smiling. Even through the being knocked around and pummeled with sadistic fury, Robin keeps a smile on his face. The pain may be there for a second but another half-second later, a smirk or a smile of what could be presumed victory seems to appear on his face. His body hits the ring's canvas and there's not even a moment where he can roll away, as boots come stomping at this chest. Something cracks and Robin covers up, long enough to wince in pain. He turns and scrambles, weakly, for the ropes (as if this were an actual boxing match to the death), reaching out to grab at them. He starts trying to pull himself up. But he's weakened. And he's hurt. And he's losing blood. And there are two Red Hoods, if his vision is any indication. "That-- that's it?" Robin can barely stand and yet he's still annoyed by Red Hood's drama. "...you gonna' beat Batman with those moves?" He cough-laughs blood right up and from his lips, turning around to lean against the ropes. His legs give out and he drops down to the mat. "Dude..." A bloody mouthed smirk. "Not even on his radar." He tries to raise a hand to show how over Red Hood's head Batman is but his arm can't quite make it up there. Pain. Another punch comes down to Robin's face, and if the blood wasn't spewing from his nose earlier, it is now! "I'm going easy on you Replacement! You can't even try to keep up! You are supposed to be the new Robin? You are a waste of space!" Yes, Red Hood is ranting, yelling, raging even at the younger man before him. But Robin's grip won't keep on the ropes as another punch and one more kick comes in to greet him. When Robin hits the mat again, Hood goes to step on his hand, a crack heard. Likely broken fingers rather than the hand though, before he moves to straddle Robin. Now bloodied black gloves reach up as Red Hood's fingers wrap about Robin's neck and starts to squeeze. "I should just finish you now. Let Batman bury another Robin! And then another, and another! Until he finally realizes how fruitless it all is because he won't do what's right!" Robin is done. There's not enough inside of his body to actually be able to mount any kind of defensive right now. There's really nothing left in him but heart. And where there's heart, there's snark. And that's why, even while blood is all over him and he's likely not going to be conscious much longer... Robin still stands his ground. In a manner of speaking. "Go ahead." What? Robin with a death wish? "Do it." Say what?! "Make him angry." Oh, that makes more sense. "You're not gonna' like him when he's angry." Yes. Everything is a joke to him. But he's also calling the bluff. The threat doesn't seem to work, as the fingers tighten and squeeze. It seems to make it worse. And Robin can feel he is at the point from being suffocated to about to have his wind pipe crushed. But at that last moment as the world starts to go dark, Red Hood's fingers slowly start to loosen so that much needed oxygen can be gasped in. Robin won't be the only one panting for air, so will Red Hood. "You know...NOTHING," he grounds out. But after a brief moment to give Robin some more time to drag in air as darkness will still cloud his vision, Red Hood finally asks, "What is your question?" Robin has about a four minute window before his body completely shuts down to go into survival mode. But the expulsion of breath is about to cut that time in half. He can barely see the Red Hood. He can barely speak. But there's just enough energy to ask the only question that seems to matter. "Was--" Cough. Ragged and raspy vocals. Try again, Robin. "... was it good for you?" Robin's smile immediately goes into the most pitiful spell of laughter that he could possibly pull off with minimal bodily functionality. Red Hood is silent for a moment. He knows better at this point to ask: 'Are you serious?' Cause honestly, he thinks Carrie and Tim is both friggin' nuts at this point after their questions! He works at catching his breath, before he finally says, "Ya, it kinda was." He then moves for a knockout punch! "Finally," he says afterwards, "he shuts up." He moves to awkwardly get up off Robin. He steps out of the ring to get a few things, before getting back into it. Red Hood first tosses red paint over Robin and the ring matting, making it look a bit like blood due to the coloring and with some drying it looks even more effective. It also won't be kind to the cuts left behind either. He then drops a cardboard tube in the ring, white plastic capped on both ends before he drops the paint can into the trash and tugs his helmet on. No cameras in the place still, so he just pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights up. He draws in the smoke deep into his lungs, and the slowly lets it out, using it to help calm his still racing heart. He takes one look back to the ring, before he heads out the back door with helmet in hand. Maybe Wildcat will return in time to help save Robin from the severe beating he got, and maybe he won't... The gym is silent, which isn't unusual considering it is closed right now thanks to 'Jay's' actions. But what is strange is the fact that while Wildcat was away on patrol, the lights of the gym turned on and only covers over the windows permitted it from beaming out to the street to advertise it clearly. The boxing ring in the gym has a splash of red, as if blood over the matting and on the person laying prone across it. The figure has a yellow underside to his cape which is spread out beneath him, a red tunic, and green pants. Stained with the red that is splashed across the matting is a brown cardboard tube with white plastic end stoppers. It rests near the body on the boxing ring mat. There is no music, just the slight creaks and sounds of the gym on a normal, quiet night. Wildcat stops and goes into a crouch on entering. His eyes take in every corner of the room looking for any sign of ambush. Moving along the wall he sidles towards the electrical box controlling the lights. Fine beads of sweat appear on his upper lip as his ears strain for any sound of another presence in the gym. With one hand he reaches for the light switch. The sound of breathing is perhaps what is the most evident. Not that it is even good breathing. It is barely breathing. And it is coming from the body in the middle of the ring. That much is perhaps the most obvious. As the darkness crashes silently about the gym, it is like Wildcat's enhances sense. Don't they always in the dark for humans? As he moves about he can catch some things. Yes, the breathing, but also the smell of paint, and the slight lingering scent of cigarette smoke. There doesn't seem to be any other living presence other than the man in the boxing ring, and barely at that. Wildcat lopes to the ring. he catches a whiff of paint and the cigarette smoke. His mouth curls in disgust as he slips under the ropes into the ring and approaches the still form. As he reaches it he looks around one more time. Then he begins to look the young man over to assess his injuries. he pulls a small penlight from his sleeve in case he needs a better look. Check the injured. If he doesn't need immediate attention secure the building and make sure the Hood isn't here to finish them both. Then treat him and contact ... Contact who? A good question for later. A purposeful glance at the body of Robin would show serious bruising and lacerations where his skin is obvious. A look at one of his hands would clearly show that some of the fingers are not turned the way they should be; Broken. From the throat upwards, there's more bruising and his nose is also broken. Even with his mask intact, there's the outer rim of swelling. Any attempts to get him awake or something? Fail. Completely unresponsive. Possible concussion. Grant would recognize some of the bruises and damage. In this ring, Robin must have been pinned against the ropes and beaten from some of the injuries that are exposed and more that will be revealed. Moves Grant himself has been known to use. Wildcat moves carefully to pick up Robin. Too exposed here. If the Hood was going to move on him now was the time but he was out of options. The kid needed immediate treatment. Lifting the dead weight comes easily though. WIldcat moves to the edge of the ring and towards the backroom office. If Greg Saunders had already moved in the Hood would have more holes in him than an action movie plot. "Okay, kid. Easy does it." He slips under the ropes with the still form. Wildcat's foot accidentally taps the brown cardboard tube, sending it sliding across the matting and to the gym floor to roll. It has red paint on it, and he will realize that Robin doesn't have that much blood on him all considered at least, it is mostly red paint. Still, not good for the wounds. Wildcat almost kicks the tube into next week in annoyance then stops. No kicking the clues. The Bat will want it. Remember where it is. Don't freaking touch it again. His weird art showing will have to wait. Ted gets to the office and settles Robin on the desk (big desk!), shuts the door and puts on a light to work on his injuries as best as he can. He hesitates at touching the utility belt. Yes you loosen clothing but ... Polly's belt was booby trapped like a mother. He checks it nonetheless for a communicator or cell phone. Batman has a family plan, right? With the Robin's movements, as dead weight as they are, there's something specific about the flap on his glove. It swings open to reveal a wrist computer... that looks more like it has been used as a recording device than anything. It's still recording too, by the way. However, swiping away that screen (Touch Screen, baby!) will bring up a visual reading of his Robin's vital signs. In the bottom left corner of his screen is a Red & White Bat Symbol. Push it. Wildcat heaves a sigh of relief. He presses the red and white bat symbol. "Your boss is a real poster boy for OCD with these bats. You know that?" Ted pulls a first aid kit and a cardboard box out from under his desk. From the lost and found he pulls a 9mm and chambers it then leaves it within reach. He starts working on Robin's injuries. "Listen, Jay if you are still here. Leave. If you show your face ... I will end you. No rules. The way you like it." He winces at the damage done to Robin's hand. When he's satisfied his patient isn't dying this minute he sits back and waits with the gun at hand. Communicator Channel for the Bat-Family: An emergency alert comes from Robin. The location it reports is Grant's Gym in the West Side of Gotham City. Vital signs are only semi-stable. Heart rate is still going, but breathing rate is not reporting back correctly. Communicator Channel for the Bat-Family: Nightwing says, "In Bludhaven, on my way." As Nightwing rushes from Bludhaven and Batman himself responds to the emergency alert, they will discover Grant's Gym in disarray. The front door is still locked, but the back door isn't. The smoke scent is now long gone, but there is the smell of dried red paint that looks like the color of dried blood on the boxing mat. On the floor where it looks to have been kicked is a paint splattered brown cardboard tube with white plastic stoppers on both ends. Grant's office is to the side and that is where the emergency signal is coming from. Inside Grant's office there is Wildcat having just come back from patrol actually holding a gun, and a bloodied, broken, and paint splattered Robin laid out on Grant's large office desk. He is darkness. He is vengeance. He is the night. He is Batman. And after receiving the signal that /another/ of his... wards? Children? Sidekicks? ...was perhaps critically injured... The front door may be locked, but Batman-- well, he can afford to make sure it's repaired. No offense meant to Wildcat, but Tim's life is more important. So the door is kicked in as the man swings in, releasing the grapple attached to a nearby building above. He rolls in, ready to-- Paint. No enemies. But the sound of breathing from the office, and that's where he makes his way to. "Robin." The tone is half question, half order for the young man to reply. His voice is gruff, almost raspy. Robin... is unable to speak. His unconsciousness will continue for a bit. Or at least until someone with cleavage is in the room. But for now, the bird is broken. Something, interesting, though about the wrist computer. The moment that Batman is on the grounds, the signal stops and the screen swipes itself back to the recording session. Which is still going. And will continue because there doesn't seem to be anything on the screen to indicate how to stop it. It is almost immediately after Batman arrives that Nightwing joins him. His disguised car is parked a couple of blocks away in an alley, but he made great time on foot, years of training will do that. Seeing the door broken, the eskrima sticks are out. The sound of footsteps and Robin's breathing also lead to him making his way towards the office, saying, "Batman, Robin?" Wildcat opens the door. He recognizes the voice from their past team ups. "In here Batman. I made him as comfortable as I could. It was the kid, Jay who did this." Wildcat steps to the side to let the Dark Knight and Nightwing pass. Yes it sounds like a silly nickname till you see the man. then he waits quietly feeling, no knowing he is largely irrelevant to them right now. Batman swoops in, his mouth drawn into a scowl. He checks over Robin, checking the boy's vital signs, making sure it is possible to move him. To get him back to the Batcave, to get him healed. "Jay?" That alias... along with everything else he had been told. No. It couldn't be. It shouldn't be. "Why?" the Bat asks Wildcat, his eyes still on Robin. "For what purpose did he injure him?" He expects answers, if answers are to be had. He examines the wrist computer momentarily, but his attention is more on Robin's health. For now. It is strange. From his twitter account he first met with Oracle A.K.A. Babs and spooked her. Then James Gordon. Next took Batwing out to party. If Catwoman reported, there was posing as Batman to her. Then the talk with Red Robin. And now this, the first time he has violently attacked any of the Bat Family. It has escalated, and the location for this beat? At the home truff of an ally to the Bat Family. Still, each event had a drawing, though this one is still lost in darkness in the main gym. After Nightwing makes his way into the office, returning his sticks to his belt, and says, "Dang," he grumbles. He doesn't interfere with Batman in this case. When Jay is mentioned he shoots a look of shock at Wildcat, "What? What? No..." He clenches his fists and scowls, "How is he?" Wildcat points to Robin's injured hand. "That's my fistbump special. The shots to the rib were my Mr. Elbow maneuver. Obviously a big F-you to you and me. I pissed the little bastard off the other day telling him not to smoke or make gay jokes. He left a tube outside. I dunno what he has against you guys. If you help me I can splint his fingers. I've done it enough on myself." Wildcat produces some splints and bandages from the first aid kit. "Do it," Batman replies gruffly to Wildcat, standing up straight. He looks around, perceptive eyes beginning to take in everything, first in the office, then he steps out, his gaze settling over the messed-up gym itself. "Nightwing. Assist Wildcat." And the Batman begins to mentally cataloger everything, the where, the how, the why. "Got it," Nightwing is not unfamiliar with treating injuries like this and mutters, "He left him alive, so there is that." As he tries to tend to Robin's hand with Wildcat he looks over at Wildcat and says, "Wait, a tube? What kind of tube?" Batman picks up the tube, pulling the artwork from inside it, studying it for a moment or two, before re-rolling it and putting it back. He nods, listening to Wildcat, but he doesn't respond otherwise. He's thinking. When the lights are turned back on in the main gym - or night vision goggles used - the tube will find on the floor where it rolled off the boxing ring a red paint splattered brown cardboard tube. It has white plastic caps on either end. The paint is dry for the most part now, and not of major risk of ruining the art work when it gets pulled out. When the white plastic ends are popped off and the artwork unfolded, it will review a colored drawing with paint actually added to it of Robin, with Red Hood's mask on it. "Heh," Nightwing smirks when he hears Wildcat's remarks on 'the little guy'. Holding onto Robin, in case he really is waking up. Transferring the weight to his left arm, he rummages around in his belt for something to help Robin be a little more comfortable, and does not find any. "Dang, didn't pack any. He tries to catch a glimpse of the artwork, and if successful, frowns and says, "Check his wrist computer, kid always has that going, maybe it has something we can use, little busy holding him." Wildcat frowns and says, "Play detective in a minute. I almost got his hand set up. Then I want to take him up to my room and make him comfortable if that's okay. He needs a bed. I want to elevate his head better and check his pupils. If he doesn't have a concussion we might be able to get him moved safely." Ted opens one of Robin's eyes and checks the pupil dilation with his pen light. Robin's pupil dilation screams: CONCUSSION. Batman looks at Nightwing. "Get him home, Nightwing," he says tersely. "The car is outside." Nightwing looks down as Wildcat looks at Robin's eyes, "Yeah, that can't be good." He turns his head over to Batman and says, "Got it. I'll take care of him." With that, Nightwing picks up Robin and makes his way towards the door, thinking of the best way to get him to his car without shaking him too much, and not being obvious to the public.